Rolled Eyes and Egg Salad Sandwiches

I saw the sunset smile aimlessly across the vast blue horizon of tomorrows waste mind flickering at the possibilities and extremities of mismanaged middle aged self awareness Breaking across the force fields of rejection in a middle class suburban nightmare making my way across the city of lost souls and broken dreams trying to find my exitRoosevelt highways of rosy colored blossoms flirted with my angst of future ramifications lost with tomorrows youth of fickle fiends and lysogenic lovers of long lost despair Tungsten tongue twisters of menacing improbability dose my anger about my lack of place Movement of swirling camcorder nickels infestation without proper cause Mixed emotions of otter swimming dragons whose only goal is what awaits them at the end of their individuality Drug induced comas smash interstellar flames of desire and passion that breaks apart the insestuial love of the third bars masterful scheme Quickly spinning across flower fields of mind erasing dramas and buddhas of compassion Lackluster performances of quarterly festering wounds of the proverbs last track of dynamo exploding infernos of yesterdays pacifism Candlelit fear of super sensational mixed camcorder mexico with lime light pressings beyond backbone corridors of meatloaf melodrama Worldly feelings fealty movement scatters across thick brained hardwirings of pasta suited penguins of penitence Gone against the winds infinite wisdom shatters all hope of redemption once again incomplete

Author guidance

I wrote this during one of my manic episodes right after reading Alan Ginsberg's poem Howl. I notice a lot of similarities used with prose, but I feel my own individuality as well as imagery is prevalent throughout the poem. It is basically a disdain of my current situation and my lack of general interest in middle class suburbia

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